The preachers would have been staring at the stars if an inch of the sky was left unsheltered by the tall and broad trees above them. The night was dark enough make one forget if his eyes were open or not. The hack of surrounding the flame with a damp cloth to smother the smoke and the light, was proving extremely helpful. They needed every hint of light they could get. They lied on their backs on the parachute traveling prayer mat which doubled as a sheet. They had eaten enough to suppress their hunger for the night. They struggled to keep their eyes closed. The stress and anxiety were just too much to fool the mind that was looking for a way out even when they didn't want to. The runners kept to themselves without making a sound but their heads were echoing with the same question; "Why?". Both had escaped similar fates, condemned by similar people, from similar places. In many aspects, Soleiman had had it easier than his companion. His friends had survived, he had escaped unharmed and his people back home were vaguely aware of his whereabouts. The same could not have been said about Mustafa. His morale had been significantly battered to the point of calling it a day on this line of work. Yet the word resonating in his mind was the same. If the natives of these villages were this hostile towards foreign visitors, what had kept them from attacking them the very moment they showed their faces in their lands? They could have easily put them out of their misery as soon as possible. The odds of the natives of an undiscovered, secluded place being so cunning that they would lure their prey to live among them just to hunt them when the time was right, seemed very low. The corpses of the Christian preachers had lit a spark in both of their minds. They couldn't help but think that the people had probably been doing this for a long time and they had never left any survivor to tell the tale.
Soleiman sat up in the dark, drowned in the thought. The runners felt for their Christian counterparts. They had taken the same risk for the similar mission. They had been just as enthusiastic and passionate as Soleiman and Mustafa but probably more organized. Soleiman was getting perplexed on their fate. He had developed a habit of associating every event to the will of God and the greater plan. Another "Why?" he faced was related to the demise of those preachers ambushed before him. They didn't deserve to be hacked and left to rot in the woods forever. He wondered if there were any families that awaited their return or if anyone had received the news of their grim misfortune. They had been brave. They just wanted to share the knowledge, which according to them was "God-given", to the people who were centuries behind. And all they got in return was an untimely and brutal death. He could almost see them awaiting their killing blows clutching their crosses and rosaries. Praying with their eyes closed.
"They deserve proper burial!", finally Soleiman spoke out. Mustafa wasn't expecting him to be in his senses after what he had just been through. He stared at Soleiman for a while even though he pretty much couldn't see him in the dark. He closed his eyes.
"Yes, they do", Mustafa managed to speak without bothering to opening his eyes. Soleiman was almost repulsed by his companion's indifference. He looked away and tried to wrap his mind around the possibilities. "We must go back and give them their last rites", he muttered. Mustafa sat and stood up in one motion. The dim light failed to hide his anger and bafflement.
"Are you out of your mind?", Mustafa groaned as soon as he stood up. The pain of the wounds arrived lagged. He put his hands on the wounds impulsively and bent to the ground. He focused all his attention towards Soleiman once the pain became a bit bearable. The question sounded rhetorical but he awaited his answer. Soleiman took his time and barely stuttered out a response. "Come on, it wouldn't take too much time", he managed to say.
Mustafa exhaled slowly and gestured himself to calm down. "How many corpses do you think are lying in the woods?", Mustafa quizzed. He was absolutely certain that Soleiman significantly underestimated the task he thought he should perform. Soleiman was silent.
"I have seen that part of hell in the daylight. Dozens, if not more bodies are lying there. Some are even hanging from the trees. God knows how they got there", Mustafa barely managed to keep his voice down as he yelled in a hushed tone. "It would take a week for a group to clear the forest of their pieces and in this state of health, I don't know for how long I can hang on", he continued. Soleiman acknowledged the threat. He didn't see the corpses himself but the pain on Mustafa's face as he talked about them, was enough to fathom the gravity of the situation. Soleiman was also reminded that his companion, though not looking as such, was seriously injured. The severe loss of blood and lack of proper medication to prevent any infection, didn't leave any time for such humanitarian maneuvers. Mustafa laid back down and held out a black, leather bound book in his hand. Mustafa reached out and took it. It was a diary using a cover of an old bible. The ragged cover hardly preserved the stamped the crucifix on its center. Soleiman had the urge to read it but the lack of illumination prevented him.
"I picked it up from the front pocket of a black long coat worn by a skeleton. An empty leather bag was lying on the ground. His murderers must have looted it. Most of the carcasses were too scattered to even make out their former physiques but this poor fellow was pinned to a tree, his skeleton impaled by a spear", said Mustafa. "It narrates the same good experiences that we both had in the villages but the poor guy didn't get the chance to write about the bad ones", he continued.
Soleiman didn't need to ask more. He was certain that was the guy he met in his dream. He felt helpless and was on the verge of losing his faith when he heard his mentor speak to a much younger Soleiman.
"That's the thing about Tests, you seldom know it when you go through one", Abdul Haadi spoke with a smile with a hand on his shoulder.
Soleiman sighed and laid back on the sheet. Mustafa was relieved to see him letting go of the burden he didn't need to carry.